Laughing
by PoppyParanoia
Summary: "You love me? ...Bakura, that's disgusting." Onesided Tendershipping oneshot. R&R.


**AN**: So, I took a little break from writing the last few chapters of 'Borderline' (but don't worry, it'll still be updated as regularly as I promised before) and did a onesided Tendershipping (my current obsession) oneshot.

Told from Bakura's POV.

Enjoy =)

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**DISCLAIMER...**

I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!, and this storyline is absolutely, positively fictional. I mean no offense to anyone

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He's laughing, now.

Except, the only thing is, he's not _really _laughing.

When he _really _laughs, his big, wide, chocolate brown eyes _light _up and his face crinkles into the _biggest _grin, and for a moment, _that _moment, _everything_ horrible in the world, _all_ of Bakura's fears and problems and self-loathing, all of it just goes _away_. And then, Bakura will find himself _smiling_, because the other boy's smile is _dreadfully_ contagious, and _really_, who's _not_ going to find themselves smiling when Ryou_'s_ smiling, too?

And so, right now, he's not _really _laughing. Because, right now, sure, the chuckles are just _rolling _from his lips, but his eyes are still so _dark_. They're turned off. They're not shining bright, chasing away all of Bakura's demons and darkness. The light that normally sets Bakura's world on _fire _isn't there, and Bakura feels like crying.

And now, he's speaking.

His voice is filled with that dark laughter, and it's dripping and _oozing_ with a mockery that Bakura didn't know the boy could possess.

And, suddenly, Bakura, he's _angry_.

His brow furrows and he swallows shakily and he feels a quick fury well up inside of his veins, because how _dare_ he.

_He_ is the one that uses sarcasm and biting remarks and hidden meanings.

Not the _other_ boy.

The _other_ boy just puts the mockery, the sarcasm, the hidden meanings, the biting remarks…_he_ just puts it all into a voice. _His_ voice.

And yet, despite the fact that it's _so_ wrong, the words are still coming out of the boy's mouth. And Bakura feels his heart oh-so-_slowly_ splitting in two.

"You _love_ me?"

Bakura winces as the boy laughs weakly, shortly, again.

"You _love_ me? Kura, _c'mon_. That's…"

He stops speaking now, and Bakura clenches his eyes shut.

Humiliation and misery and regret.

That's all he feels.

He's praying that by some _god_forsaken chance, this will turn out better than he _knows_ it will. His heart is pounding in his ears and his stomach is twisting and turning and doing all kinds of things a stomach shouldn't, and he feels the bile slide down his throat like acid as he swallows.

He dares to open his eyes, and when he does, he's halfway surprised to find that tears are _burning_, stinging, _sliding_ out of their depths.

He dares to look up at his hikari, and he has to squint because, in this darkness, in this quiet, in this loneliness, the boy's hard to see.

The boy is looking down.

Bakura can't see his big, chocolate eyes, and his white hair is hanging in his face. Bakura feels his heart pounding, and he's desperate. He's desperate for the boy to say _something_, because at least it'll be _something_. Even if it'll undoubtedly break Bakura's heart, and even if it'll undoubtedly change Bakura's life, at least it will something besides this _silence_.

He looks up.

"You _love_ me?" he repeats, but this time, when Bakura meets the boy's eyes, he's not flooded with happiness and butterflies and _love_ like usual. He inches back under his hikari's gaze, and he frowns, feeling like melting into a puddle of goo right then and there, because Ryou looks like he's ready to _kill_ him.

His chocolate brown eyes are narrowed, and they're cutting like _daggers_ into Bakura's soul, Bakura's skin, Bakura's _heart_.

Bakura can't believe that the boy, the boy who was always supposed to represent happiness and peace and joy and confidence and just plain _brightness_ is now shadowed with hate and horror.

"Bakura, that's _disgusting_."

Bakura feels his heart break into a million and one pieces. He clenches his eyes shut the hardest yet, and tears begin to cascade quicker down his pale cheeks.

Silence.

A sigh.

"Bakura, you don't…" Footsteps, now. He's walking over. "…You don't love me. You _don't_. You just…" His hand is on Bakura's shoulder, now, and Bakura feels fury bubble up inside him, and he feels disgust _ooze_ its way onto his tongue, and he feels the scream echoing over and over again in his mind, but it just doesn't come out. "You're just tired. You're upset, and you're lonely, and…and you don't know what you're saying."

Those last words cut Bakura to the _bone_, because his hikari knows damn well that Bakura _always_ knows what he's saying.

But, here's the thing.

Bakura thinks that maybe he _knows_ that, but he just doesn't want to _acknowledge_ it. Acknowledge _any_ of this. Because Bakura notices how with that last part, the other boy's words dim oh-so-slightly, oh-so-_sadly_, as if he's trying to convince _himself_ that what he's saying is true, never mind Bakura.

Bakura swallows, and he shakes his head.

No.

That's his version of a, "no".

These are Bakura's feelings. These are his feelings, from the deepest, darkest depths of his heart and mind, and they're _not_ some silly manifestations of a broken heart or a lonely soul. This is what he feels, and it's what he's finally worked up the courage to tell the other boy after so _many_ long years.

And the other boy must deal with that, because Bakura's not going to lie just to make _him_ feel better.

Another sigh is all he gets.

His hand leaves Bakura's shoulder.

"Goodnight, Bakura."

The words are soft and steady, just like the footsteps that echo after, leaving Bakura alone in the room.

Bakura stands there for a moment; his body is bent in shame, in misery, his dark brown eyes glued to the ground, hiding behind a curtain of scruffy white hair. His lips are quivering, salty-sweet from the tears that dripped upon them, a light pink against his pale, white face, and he's not saying a word. His bony hands are twisting each other, back and forth, in front of his body, and he feels his world slowly breaking apart.

The _one_ thing that was holding Bakura's life together, that _had_ held Bakura's life together for _years_, just walked out on him.

And poor Bakura has no idea what to do.

So, for a moment, he just stands there, paralyzed.

And then…

Then?

Well, he starts laughing.

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R&R =)

O=


End file.
